Dark Jedi
by Clare IR
Summary: Fate and destiny are often intertwined; Nya Halkon has often heard the whispers of the force, of the Jedi who mastered it many lifetimes ago. It calls to her, the light, but also the dark. Kylo Ren has known of their fates being intertwined from a young age, and now free from the oppressive thumb of his uncle, and with no limitations and checks to his power, he must find her.
1. Chapter 1

**Jedi Temple, 09/17ABY**

Scorching heat bore down on the trainees as they ran about, allowed a day of peace while the traders came, a rare visit it was indeed. Luke stood at the head of his temple steps, watching as the ships landed in the distance, bringing supplies and goods the temple needed if it was to continue. While the planet was sustaining in several aspects, it didn't provide everything for him and the younglings.

Something else was brewing; he could sense it in the force, concerning his nephew, the dark haired boy sat on the steps further down and along than he was stood at. He often sensed unease in young Ben Solo, such discourse appearing at moments throughout his training. It was nothing that couldn't be fixed with the correct training and time.

The traders approached rapidly, and amongst them, a young girl. He could sense her as clear as he could see the pale blue sky above him, feel the new life springing around him in the garden. It was potent; an individual with great potential. He could already hear the voices of those who came before him, whispering to him. _A girl born on the tenth month of the tenth year since the Battle of Yavin, _they spoke to him in ushered tones, voices all melding together, making it hard for him, even with his years of training, to discern which were which of his fallen comrades. _Tied to the boy she will be, both of them bringing back the balance to the force they will_, he recognised the voice of Master Yoda whispering to him.

Immediately his eyes cut down sharply to his dark haired nephew, brown eyes meeting his before looking back to the now arriving traders. Luke gave a thoughtful hum as he laid eyes on a tiny, rather thin, dark haired child that darted between everyone's bodies with the other children of the group.

"Ben," he called, the twelve year olds head snapping to him immediately. He stood, brushing his cream coloured robes off as he stood, making his way over to his uncle as they descended down the steps, walking towards the convey as they began to offload their goods.

* * *

A flash of grey and white with dark hair ran darted between the legs of the traders, one of the boys from the village hot on her heels. She screamed with childish delight, knowing she was faster and he would never catch her. No one ever caught her, she was always too fast for them. "Nya!" He shouted her name, but she was already gone, grinning as she leapt over a cart coupling, the boy stopping short of following her, bending over and wheezing with exertion as he watched her dart out of sight.

Nya beamed as she ran up to her parents, both of them seemingly in deep conversation with an aging man, his dark beard starting to go grey. Beside him was a sullen boy, his dark hair a mop over his eyes. He looked around, almost as if he was uninterested by the whole thing; Nya didn't blame him, it was very boring. Occasionally, when they went to other planets, something would peak her interest, but they would be long gone before she could explore it more.

As if he had sensed her eyes on him, brown orbs, distrustful and seeming a thousand years older than they were, landed on her. A whispering filled her ears and she frowned, unable to make out the voices and what they were saying to her. She tugged at her mothers long robe, weathered from years of usage and wear, caramel brown eyes looking down at her in question. "I hear the voices again," she mumbled and her mothers eyes softened, reaching down to pick the six year old up, Nya sucking a thumb into her mouth like she always did, a comforting habit she never got rid of, much to their exasperation.

The robed man, whom her parents had been talking to, looked to her with heavy blue eyes, seemingly seeing through her soul. Unwaveringly, she returned his stare, and he gave a slight chuckle. "Those voices are not something to be frightened of, Nya," he stated, and her brows furrowed. "But I don't want to hear them, they frighten me," she muttered, burrying her head in her mothers long auburn hair. The man nodded, and gave a look down to the dark haired boy beside him. "We both hear them too, the Force, the whispers of those who came before us," he continued and she looked at him. "I don't believe you," she grumbled and he gave a wide smile, turning to her parents, more so her father. "Might I speak with you both in private?"

* * *

Nya kicked at the grass with a slight huff, irritated to be shut out from something she knew, even at only six years old, concerned her. The boy was stood in the shade of a great tree, leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest. She frowned at him, deciding he looked far too intimidating, and taller than her, for her to go over and try to rouse some form of discussion from him.

Ben could hear her thoughts of him, of course, but that was something she didn't need to know. There were numerous times when Ben questioned his uncles motives -this was one of them. The girl was scrawny, impulsive, wild; he could sense it through her mind, and her mind was a turmoil of emotions. But something called him to her, almost as if the Force has assigned them together for great things. His mind laughed at that, such an audacious thought. This girl wouldn't last a day, much less a minute, at Jedi training; she was far too weak.

His uncle was in there for a long time, and when he came out, he looked at his nephew, the voice of his uncle resounding in Ben's head. _Come along,_ he murmured, _we have much to discuss back at the Temple_. As he finished, Nya's mother came out, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. She pulled her daughter to her, leading her by the hand and rubbing her weathered thumb across the small knuckles of the six year old.

The two walked back to the temple in silence, and it wasn't until they were in his uncle's chambers did the older Skywalker speak. "Ben, do you remember when I told you the Force has mysterious ways of bringing about destiny and fate to each of us?" He patted the space on the floor beside him, and the adolescent nodded as he took his space on the floor beside his mentor. "I do."

Luke nodded. "That girl is here for a reason, Ben. She has potential I haven't seen in a long time, a raw energy, a rare connection to the Force, and the Force has decided to intertwine the both of your fates together." He stated, the dark haired boy looking to him with wide, darkening eyes as he took in this information. _So this is why I felt that connection to her_, he thought to himself, his uncle nodding beside him as he read his thoughts. Ben slightly bristled at the invasion, but subdued his irritation.

Blue met brown. "This girl, and you, will bring balance to the force, Ben. She will be staying, and the two of you will train together to bring back the balance." Ben looked at Luke, intrigued. _So the girl will be staying_, he mused sullenly to himself, and for the first time, he knew he would have someone who would never leave or abandon him, becuase the Force had decreed it, unlike his parents, whom at the first chance, in his mind, had carted him off to his uncle at the first chance they had gotten, abandoning him all over again; but the girl wouldn't, and he wouldn't let her.

* * *

Nya awoke during the early hours of the morning to hushed whispers from her mother and father across the room, her two other siblings still sleeping beside her. Screwing her eyes shut tightly, she listened, willing them not to notice she had awakened and was eavesdropping on them.

"We cannot give up our only daughter, Nars!" Her mother argued desperately, her voice a harsh, hushed whisper. Her father gave a low hum. "You heard the Jedi," was his gruff reply. "Nya will grow powerful, have a purpose, more so than to be the daughter of a trader. This would give her purpose, a destiny, and you heard him; he says her fate is sealed with another. Who are we to take that away from her?"

Her mother gave a weary sigh. "My answer is still no, and I will never change my mind. She is _our_ child, and we love her dearly. Whatever comes with her upbringing, we will weather it, because we took on her as a responsibility when we brought her into this world." She heard her mother move, and her father give a weary sigh of his own. Her mothers voice was slightly muffled, leading Nya to belive the two were embracing. "We cannot throw away a responsibility because someone spoke something that sounded enticing."

Nya laid deathly still, taking in everything they said. Had the man tried to persuade her parents to give her to him? Instant anger burned within her very being, the voices reaching a multitude inside her as they whispered frantically. _Anger is not the way_, they whispered, _anger leads to destruction and chaos, not the Jedi way_, another whispered, the voices blurring into one another again as she was lulled back into sleep, her head falling limply to her side.

When she awoke it was daylight, her mother carrying her back to the ship she called home when they were off trading. She gave a weak yawn, her mother looking down on her with a gentle smile. "We couldn't rouse you this morning, my sweet child. We've finished our business and it's time to leave."

Dark eyes, endless pools of swirling brown, looked at the woman above in surprise. "I'm coming with you?" She whispered, voice still rough from sleep, and her mother gave a bemused smile before a slight chuckle. "Of course you are, silly girl. As if we would leave you behind."

A small smile was brought to the childs face as she spoke those words, and she nestled back into her mother, her brothers running ahead to the ship with joyous laughter. She was leaving, going home, not to the man and strange boy she barely knew.

* * *

While Nya left, at the temple, Ben did not share her joyous mood. He scowled ferociously at his uncle, the aging, bearded man wary of the pure rage he felt emanating from his apprentice. "You said she was staying!" The preteen bellowed angrily, hands clenched fiercely by his side that Luke thought they might snap should he try to uncurl them. "You said she was mine!"

Luke raised a hand in gentle soothing. "This is just the beginning, Ben. You will meet again." He stated warily and Ben stood quickly, his eyes narrowed at his uncle. "Yes, we will," he snapped fiercely. "I will find her and bring her to the force where you have failed, and she will not leave me again like everyone else does!" He hissed, turning abruptly and storming from the room, leaving his uncle to watch him closely, suspiciously, as he stormed off to the small stone hut he called his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Supremacy, 05/28ABY**

Men clothed in white armour escorted him to the being who had been responsible for his awakening, for freeing him from his sly, murderous uncle who had been ever so close to cutting him down while he slept. _Like a coward_, the voice had sneered before giving him instructions to come join it and reach his full potential. Ben was wary however; what if the leader decided his uncles teachings had been too strong? He internally scoffed, sneered, at such a notion. Skywalker's teachings had been poisonous, just like the man behind them.

The elevator took him up many levels, his eyes surveying the design. It was intricate, nothing like the simple stone huts he had lived in for the last thirteen years. It had all been destroyed when he had brought it down upon Skywalker and himself, everything he owned but the clothes upon his back gone in an instant because of an uncles betrayal.

The elevator doors hissed before opening, and he glanced forwards, greeted by the sight of a pale complexed creature sitting on a throne surrounded by draped walls of red. The creature rose, and as he descended down the throne, he could see him more clearly. It was human, but not quite, more than likely a humanoid as he remembered being told during his training. He was tall, taller than he was himself, and his face looked torn, evil, weathered by the dark side of the force which he practiced.

"Ahh, young Solo," it called to him as he was brought before him, brown eyes regarding him warily, the betrayal evident in the dark, ancient orbs. "I have waited a long time for the grandson of Darth Vader to come before me."

Ben gave a sharp inhale. The name his family had lied to him about, kept from him, feared telling him, was one the creature before him spoke so clearly, no hesitations. He thought of the girl from many years ago; had they told her and that was why her parents had fled with him before he could protest directly to them?

The creature gave a slight incline of his head. "Your thoughts drift towards someone else, young Solo." He murmured lightly, coming to a stop a few feet away from the twenty-three year old. Ben's eyes snapped to him immediately, his gaze sharp. "She is someone prophesised to me," he revealed before anger surrounded his features and he hissed furiously, feeling the force bubbling within him, itching to destroy something that his uncle would have highly frowned upon. "She escaped me once because of _Skywalker_," he spat the name, it tasting like poison and deceit upon his tongue.

An amused smirk drawled off the creatures lips. "Then you will succeed where he failed. I sense, from your memories of her, that she was a formidable child; Skywalker sensed it too, resulting in his failed attempt to bring her to his side." He leered, staring down at the young man before him. "She will be a woman now, capable of being swayed through other means. Become my apprentice, young Solo. Remake yourself in the image of the First Order, and I will bestow teachings upon you that will not let this girl slip through your fingers again, and with the knowledge, you will seduce her to the dark side."

Ben gazed up. _I will find her_, he swore inwardly, and the creature gave a leering smile as he watched the human drop to one knee before him. "Yes you will, my apprentice," it drawled before it turned and made its way back to the throne in front of him, taking a seat before gazing upon the man before him, no longer the boy whom he had whispered to for many years, enticing him to the dark side since he began to feel in a way not for the Jedi way of life.

* * *

Hot flashes danced before her eyes as she tossed on the small, hard bed tucked away into the corner of the tiny hut she shared with her parents and five out of her seven siblings. A whimper left her lips, her face screwing and then unclenching. Her mother watched from the doorway, her eyes wary. It had been the seventh one in as many nights, never in this frequency before. Once a year, perhaps, twice or thrice at the most, but never this many.

Her mother turned to the irritated and distrustful man behind her. "We should have left her on the planet with that Jedi," she murmured sorrowfully and the man scowled. "She frightens off our trade, Syrilla. This has to end," he growled under his breath and the woman nodded before glancing back to her oldest daughter, once her pride and joy, now something she feared more than death itself.

As she turned away, two lone tears trickled down the young womans face, the two aged adults unaware that their words had wounded and been heard, even in a deep slumber that was frought with visions of death and chaos that were yet to unfold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Jakku, 10/28ABY**

Nya raced through the sand dunes, her mind whirling. Today was her becoming of age day, and yet all she felt was a feeling of trepidation. It was no secret most of the village, the settlement her father had organised for their collective group of traders, feared her, thanks to the old man from many a year ago making it clear she held some form of power where the others did not. Their fear was like a stench around her, unavoidable, no matter where she went.

It was heartbreaking; her own family feared her, even her youngest sister Yula, just eight years old. She feared her, as did all the others. As soon as they came of age, her brothers had fled, spitting that she was a freak that would divide their families as they left with their respective wives. It had broke her heart, at only twelve years old, her eyes filling with angry tears as she reflected on what it had felt like, to have loved them so much, only to have them cast her aside because of some ill words an old man had said when she was but a child.

She had gained advantages, however, during those almost dozen years since her encounter with the old man and strange dark haired boy by his side. While she had been a bony child, plain and simple in the eyes of everyone, her aging had given her another strength; beauty. While she had been unnaturally thin, that remained somewhat, but she had filled into her womanly body, a few curves where needed, long, dark, almost black hair reaching down to her shapely hips. Dark eyes were surrounded by thick lashes, seemingly endless, her emotions often displayed in the endless abyss of darkness.

Had she been someone else, and not be an outcast, she would have been a rare beauty, born to such a low way of life and status; she hadnt been so fortunate though. Here, she was a freak, an abomination, feared for something she didn't even understand herself. To have a knowledge of the force was something she feared yet desperately craved, to understand why she was the way she was, why she was hated and feared so much, it was heartbreaking, anguishing, _infuriating_.

Her father surveyed her with sharp eyes as she approached the camp, wary and cautious. He motioned her inside, and said nothing to her, going to her younger siblings instead, none of which bore the same gift as her. Her mother was serving up their nightly supper, a thick stew made from whatever rare creature her father had procured earlier. She took her bowl gently, her mother not meeting her eyes as she handed it to her.

Hurt spiked in her chest but she quickly squashed it down, unwillingly for it to control her like it did so many times when she wept to herself silently before she fell into an uneasy slumber. It was relenting; the voices whispered to her during her sleep, terrifying her to a point where she often awoke in a cold sweat. Other times there was a fire, calling her name, giving her free reign to unleash her darkest emotions and fantasies. In some she screamed, decimating village after village in her raw rage, others she was beautiful, powerful, her dark hair curving around her waist as she wielded darkness against those who had wronged her time after time in her life so far.

She took her supper and sat on her bed, knowing she wasn't welcome to sit with everyone else as they took theirs outside with the rest of the encampment; she had long ago been unwelcome, not long after they had came from the planet with the old man and his temple of Jedi trainees. Rumours, whispers, had spoken that it had long ago been destroyed by one of the trainees, and the old man had became a legend. Red hot rage burned within her, her hand clenching into a fist, a creaking coming from the worn springs in her threadbare mattress as she did. _He would pay for what he had done to her_, her eyes narrowed angrily as she thought about what hellish torment he had brought upon her, the scars on her back from the abuse of the villagers a fresh reminder in her froughtful mind.

* * *

He could sense her again. He stood up from where he sat on the Bridge, overlooking the planet they were raiding in front of him for candidates for the stormtrooper army that was led by the loathsome, red haired man beside him. Beneath the mask, he could sense the girl, the one who had been taken from him many years ago. He couldn't sense where she was, just her red hot, burning rage, calling out to him like a beacon in the dark. The Supreme Leader had warned against such an occurrence, stating those who's lives were bound so tightly together would seek each other out through the force.

It was intoxicating, her anger, her rage, her hurt. She would have been of age this month, he remembered, Skywalker having told him that a girl born from the tenth month of the tenth year since the Battle of Yavin would be his, someone who would restore the balance with him, someone who was powerful, just like him, _and someone who would never abandon him like his family had done since he was a babe_. She was _his_, and he would find her even if it meant he had to tear apart entire worlds and galaxies to find her.

Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, walked forward to the large windows at the front of the bridge, surveying the damage on the planet before him. Even from the bridge, he could see the battle raging below as the planet resisted the rule of the First Order. Had he witnessed this a decade ago, he would have been horrified, disgusted, nauseated. But now, he was strong. _Ben Solo was dead_, he mused with ill-amusement. Kylo Ren, dark force apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke, was strong, ruthless, unwavering in his allegiance to the First Order and way of the dark side.

The girl would join them, or it would be her death. It was only a matter of time before they found her; her unconscious calling to the force was her undoing when it came to remaining hidden from the First Order, from _him_. It was slowly revealing her to him, after over a decade of waiting, and soon she would be his, this time unable to run away from him, or be stolen away while he was powerless to stop it. He wasn't powerless or helpless anymore; he had power, a knowledge that would be shared with her should she join their cause, _join him_.

He would hunt her down, track her down, and offer her his hand. There she would choose; be weak and be destroyed, or join them, _join him_, and become knowledgable and powerful, unable to be hurt by anyone else ever again - he would make sure of it, and together, the two of them would bring back order and balance, and _kill the last Skywalker_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Jakku, 01/29ABY**

Her eyes were restless, moving rapidly as she tossed and turned, her eyelids moving frantically as she dreamt. She gasped for air, her breaths coming in short and shallow, just quiet enough to not rouse the others sleeping in the small room. She gave a soft whimper, the images flashing before her eyes in her dream enough to turn a sane person insane.

Images, horrifying in nature, danced around before her, taunting her. Images of red blood stained hands -her hands- as they slashed away at innocent people, the dreadful screams filling her ears as she hacked away at body after body. Blood ran in rivers down her body, and it was her appearance that startled her the most. She wasn't bone thin, if you could tell at all from the heavy black clothes she wore. They hugged her shapely curves, heavy on her figure. She seemed regal, _powerful_, almost as if she had a purpose higher than being the unwanted daughter of a trader.

They changed so quickly. She was running from something, blood running down her abdomen as she ran, a pained cry of fear leaving her lips as she fell, her eyes shining bright in the distant fires before her as a man in black approached, his face obscured by a mask. He had one of those Jedi weapons she remembered seeing once, a long time ago, but it was red. He advanced, and she gave a soft whimper, her bottom lip quivering.

The next image would have made her blush had she been awake. Limbs intertwined with one another, heady moans sounding as she dropped her head back, full lips trailing down her exposed throat. She gazed, transfixed upon the image before her. It wasn't one of destruction, just the opposite. She couldn't see the face of the man, only his long dark hair and strong physique. It confused her; was he a man from the village? No one from the village would touch her, let alone look at her that way.

As soon as it had appeared, it vanished, leaving her with a scene of utter destruction. A group of seven individuals, all incased in black armour with pale silver markings, stood in a ferocious storm, rain pouring down around them. Screams from people as they ran for their lives were quickly thwarted as they were ruthlessly cut down by the group of seven, each of them wielding a different weapon.

She could sense the leader out in an instant. He wielded that Jedi weapon, but in red, and it crackled, almost as if the energy that made it possible was of an unstable, volatile nature.

_Like its owner_.

Almost as if the figure had sensed her, something she thought to be impossible, he looked immediately in her direction, his head snapping up, staring at her right through the mask. Nya balked, stumbling backwards as he advanced briskly towards her. She gave a frightened scream, a sound that reached through her dreams and into reality, awakening everyone in the small room with her. Her father bellowed for everyone to run for it, everyone giving frightened gasps as they saw the eighteen year old thrashing in her small bed, rivets of sweat running down ever inch of her body.

Images flashed more so behind her eyes. Immense pain, almost like someone was prying her head open, searching her mind. The whispers had increased tenfold, murmuring in her ears, in her very mind. It drove her mad to be unable to see them but hear them. "_Get out of my head_," she screamed, speaking the words in reality too, not just her deep state. The voices whispered, continuing as if mocking her. _You must calm or he'll find you_, they urged. _Anger is not the way of the force, peace is_, another lulled to her. _These are your first steps, your first test. Calm yourself, Nya, you must, _a voice that often spoke to her commanded, the voice seemingly ancient compared to the others. _Anger is not the Jedi way, control it you must, for anger is the path to the dark side_.

A tormented, anguished, angry scream tore from her dry lips, the small room exploding into a thousand pieces around her, others around it, and then those around the others, also exploding, almost like a knock-on effect. Fire and explosions greeted her as she shot up, a frightened cry echoing from her as she shook, terrified. What she saw terrified her even more, the rest of the encampment having managed to evacuate in such a short frame of time and get to a limited safety.

Nya sat amongst the wreckage of her own carnage and destruction, shaking as tears poured down her face. She pulled at her hair, horrified with what she had done, heartbroken when she saw the look on her fellow camp members as they stared at her, at what remained of the lives they had built. Red hot anger and sorrow burned within them all; she could feel it, and she could _see _it.

A group of about a dozen stormed up to her. "Monster!" They spat at her. "Look at what you did!" They hissed, spitting at her as though she was scum, nothing more than the sand beneath their boots. "You're a freak, evil! We don't want you here anymore!"

Glistening, tearful brown eyes looked at her father as he came over, the group turning to him and asking what they should do considering she was his daughter. Her father looked at her once, eyes as cold as ice, and scowled. "This is no daughter of mine," he hissed, the words cutting Nya deep, fresh tears spewing from her eyes before she could stop them, stop showing this weakness to everyone else. "Nya, you are furthermore exiled for your actions here this night." He glared at her before turning back to the rest of her family, all of them glaring viciously at her, even her mother, her once strongest supporter.

Her father turned around before he carried on his path. "Do not return here ever again."

* * *

As she unleashed the raw energy inside her, he sensed it, sitting up straight out of his deep slumber. _Jakku_, he mused internally before throwing back the black sheets, striding for his uniform and dressing quickly. He grabbed his helmet before he left, affixing it to his head just as he left his quarters.

General Hux was surprised to see him approach, knowing he had turned in for the day. He opened his mouth to speak but was silenced as Kylo strode for the navigational chart. "Set a course for Jakku," he ordered, even through the modifier the underling at the controls knew better than to argue, the Finalizer immediately jumping into hyperspace. Blue streaked around outside the windows as Kylo stood before them, Hux joining him. "Care to share why we suddenly abandoned our post above Randar?" He inquired and the head beneath the mask turned slightly before facing forwards again. "The girl Snoke ordered us to find made herself known through the force, and I tracked her to a small encampment on the south side of Jakku." He revealed, his voice unwavering as he remained staring front.

The red haired general pulled a face. "How can you be so sure?" He drawled. "You've never been able to track her before, and now you suddenly can? I say its a false lead, Ren, perhaps your Jedi masters in the light are still whispering sweet nothings to you," he hissed and Kylo turned his head sharply, eyes narrowing beneath the mask. "Should we consult Leader Snoke on this, when it was he who gave the order for me to seek her out?" He took a step closer to the general. "You wouldn't be questioning our Supreme Leader now, _would you_?" He tilted his head.

Red, angry splotches appeared on the generals face as he floundered for a response, seemingly unable to come up with one as he watched his rival stride away.

It took under a quarter of a day to reach Jakku, and when he did, something was amiss. They approached the village, surrounding it, or what was left of it at least. FIres, long burning, were now smouldering, billowing black acrid smoke up into the air. The villagers were apprehensive as he strode around them, searching their minds loosely until he found what he was looking for. He motioned Phasma to the aging, balding old man that watched with guarded dark eyes as he was pointed out, two Stormtroopers dragging him forward before himself.

"Your daughter, where is she?" He inquired, the man giving a bemused look at him. "I have two, which one?" He motioned to two small children behind him, both of them no older than eight, and his eyes narrowed angrily, clenching his hand. Immediately the pudgy man before him began to choke, his hands going to his throat in a feeble attempt to stop it. Cries could be heard from what he presumed was the mans family.

Kylo leant in close as he released him, dropping him to the sandy ground. "We both know which daughter I mean," he murmured lowly. "I remember you from the temple, and her, so I know you have another daughter." He straightened. "Where is your _oldest _daughter?"

The man seemed conflicted before he spat on the ground. "Nya is no daughter of mine. Look what she did. She destroyed everything we have built with one of her stupid dreams. I had to exile her. Had I not, she could have killed us all, destroyed more than just a camp." He exclaimed angrily before he nodded to himself. "_She had to go_."

Red hot rage burned through the masked man and his hand squeezed again, the man resuming choking, this time more aggressively. "_You cast her out, _like _trash_, for something she cannot control?" He questioned coldly, the modulator on his voice making his sound exceptionally frightening. He leant in close. "Where did she go?"

The man wheezed out his words. "There are rumours already circulating she stole an abandoned craft from another settlement. She doesn't even know how to fly, I don't know where she went!"

Kylo twisted his hand in anger, a sickening crack echoing as the man dropped to the floor, eyes lifeless. An anguished scream came from a grey haired woman as she fought against herself to run forward. He seethed with rage, _she had escaped yet again_, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Although, now that she was aware of her potential, and had a taste for it, she would more than likely begin exhibiting more signs of the force, providing something he could latch onto whenever she dreamt, and he could entice her, _seduce her_, over to his side a little more easily before he actually laid eyes upon her for the first time in nearly a dozen years.

He made stride for his transport, Phasma approaching him as he did. "Sir, the villagers, what are we to do with them?"

Unwavering in his stride, he didnt hesitate. "Kill them all," he ordered brutely, screams echoing from behind him as he strode onto the ship. They were quickly silenced.

He had to quell his rage, unable to lash out on the ship while it was in operation -perhaps when they landed aboard the Finalizer he would unleash his rage. _You've escaped me twice before, Nya_, his thoughts were dark and angry, rageful. _You will not escape me for a third time._


	5. Chapter 5

**Unknown Regions, 02/29ABY**

Shivers wracked her body as she tried to get comfortable, the ship she had stolen not giving her much room, or warmth; however, it was much safer to sleep inside the ship than outside, the temperatures far below minus, wherever she had found herself.

Nya pressed her lips together as she shuddered from the cold. Inside the ship had been some blankets, some food, some little essentials, but it wasn't much. She had needed to use the medical kit aboard to bandage her would from where the people she had once lived with had cut her as she left, jabbing her in the back with their spikes when she begged to remain, to not be cast aside like she had seen happen to others.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she thought about that night. She would imagine they would have forgotten about her, her family happier now, not plagued by the constant fear of what she could do next. Nya tasted salt as they slipped down her pale, thin cheeks as she pressed herself further into the chair, desperate for warmth and comfort from the cold and anguish she was feeling.

_Why had they cast her out? _Her anguished mind wept. _I didn't mean to do it, I never mean to do it_, it continued to mock her with frequent thoughts. An anger spiked within her as she thought back to the voices she had heard beforehand, the voices she always heard. _It was their fault_, she hissed inwardly, her eyes squeezing shut with more tears the angrier she became. _I didn't lose control until I heard them, as always_.

She never thought this would be where she would be, just months after her coming of age day. Long ago, she would have found a suitor by now, be married, _have a child_, things she had always longed for. But since that trip to the planet with the temple and the strange old man and young boy, no one had wanted to touch her since, labelling her an abomination amongst their group.

Tears continued leaking down her cheeks, even as she fell into a restless, uneasy sleep. It haunted her with memories of the past, happy times before that day on the planet with the temple, and almost, as if flicking a switch of some sorts within her dream, it changed in an instant. Red hot fire replaced the field of flowers that she danced in as a child of no more than five, and in the child's place was a woman, her dark hair almost black, a equally dark hood up over her head. Fire spewed from everything, every hut and aircraft around her breathing roaring flames of amber, red and thick, acrid black smoke.

Nya advanced forward, her eyes apprehensive as she moved towards the woman. She was surrounded by bodies, her own weapon an exact replica of the red Jedi like weapon, but not with such a volatile nature as the masked figures had been. Nya shuddered, stepping over bodies of men clutching their wives, women clutching their small ones, all of them laid around her feet.

She went to move forward some more, but she halted as a man walked beside her, his face hidden from her view; it was the same man from the vision she'd had, his dark hair an exact replica to what she'd seen, his strong physique unmistakeable as he walked towards her other self. Nya watched as the version of her which horrified her the most leant back into the mans embrace, a gloved hand trailing down her face before it came to rest on her abdomen, turning her around to face him.

Nya inhaled sharply. Her eyes, once a luscious, dark melted brown, now ringed amber ever so slightly, the subtle look making her seem intoxicatingly powerful. The man, whomever he was, laid a gloved hand on her pale skinned face, gazing down upon her. She felt almost intrusive, as if invading a moment, no matter how preposterous that sounded. The man gave a sort of amused sound under his breath, seemingly pleased with what he saw around him. "Well done, _my empress,"_ he breathed before the two were kissing, seemingly unfazed by the multitude of death around them.

A whisper, different to those that she heard before, called her name. She turned, looking for the source, and when she turned back to where that version of herself and the unknown man had stood, they were gone, replaced by a seemingly endless plan of darkness. She turned back to where she had heard the whisper, eyes widening in horror as she saw the same masked man from the vision at the time of the destruction of the camp. He said nothing, merely stood there, watching her as her breath quickened with fear.

When she took a staggering step back from him, then he moved, taking a step forward each time she took one back. This continued until her back hit something -a wall which hadn't been there previously. She waited for him to cut her down, slaughter her, butcher her, like he had to those people who's deaths she had unwillingly witnessed.

He was eerily silent for a few moments before he spoke, the only sound her quick, fearful breaths. "At last," his voice had a strange tone to it, almost as if it was being altered by his mask. "The face of the girl who's evaded me, _twice_, now."

Nya swallowed, moistening her lips before she gave a shaky exhale. "What do you want with me?" She whispered, her dark eyes round and frightened. _Why couldn't she wake up_? _This had never happened before_. _Was she dead_?

"You will awaken," he stated as though it was amusing to him. Nya frowned. _Could he read her thoughts_?

The masked man held out his leather gloved hand, and Nya eyed it warily. He took a step forward. "I want you to _join _me, Nya. Join me and no one will ever abandon you again, torture you, _hurt_ you again. Join me and know power the likes of which you have never seen. I know you want to understand why you have these abilities, why you hear the _voices_," he spat the word almost as if he hated the voices themselves as an entity. He looked back to her, giving a shake of his hand so her attention was drawn back to it. She looked at it and then back to him. "_Join me_."

Nya swallowed thickly. _Power, a knowledge that she didn't possess, _her mind whirled with the possibilities, her heart stopping when she realised what it meant. _It would give you a purpose_, her mind whispered to her, _isn't that what you've always wanted? A purpose beyond the unwanted daughter of a tradesman? _

Her fingers twitched, something he saw, and she slowly raised her hand up by her side, eyes wide with glistening tears. One leaked down her cheek as she slowly stretched her hand towards him, his gloved hand giving a slight waver, almost as if its owner wanted to seize her approaching hand before it could withdraw and disappear like many times before it.

Her fingers were inches from his when a noise, a awful, dreadful wailing joise penetrated through her dream, a sound she had heard from the ship only once, when she was being pursued by a group that had been firing on her. Her hand snapped back to her side, her eyes opening, her face still wet with tears as she gazed out of the glass window in front of her eyes before firing up the engine.

* * *

Screams of rage could be heard all around the ship, every one of the stormtroopers that patrolled that area making a quick getaway while they could, before the anger and frustrations of Kylo Ren could be taken out on them, rather than whatever he was destroying in his room at this precise moment. It wasnt the first time one of their fellow soldier in the company had fallen victim to his rage by simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Kylo threw his saber across the room after sheathing the unstable, red, crackling blade. Again she had gotten away, _but, however_, she had been tempted to take his hand. That was a start. He had wondered what she had viewed, something he would no doubt see when he delved into her mind, _when he found her_. It wasn't a question of_ if_ he would find her, just _when_. He was going to find her, and she would either join him, reign at his side, or she would be destroyed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Mossak, 08/29ABY**

Hot air hung hazily around her, sweat dripping down her brow as she made her way inside the small hut she had crafted upon the acrid sea of sand, hot even beneath the linen she had crafted as a rug of sorts for the inside of her makeshift home. It wasn't much, but it felt more like a home than the one on Jakku had felt like.

Her bed, a mess of rough blankets and a a hard, stuffed pillow, laid in one corner, her bound journals, mere scraps of papers bound together with a string, encased in an old, hard back cover, resting beside the small mound of sheets. It documented her dreams, the strange being with the mask that appeared in them almost every night. Sometimes she longed for him to appear so she didn't feel so alone, so_ isolated_, in this cruel life. He didn't say much, just merely offered her his hand every time. She always came so close to taking it, her fingertips mere inches from his the night before.

But the whispers would start, a blockage of sorts appearing between that last breath of a gap between them. She had seen his anger, in the way he was tried, in vain, to press through the blockage, and then she awoke, drenched in sweat, as if she had ran the circumference of the whole of Mossak in her slumber.

The voices weren't contained to her dreams now. She heard them everywhere, calling to her, _warning her_. They whispered for her to leave Mossak, that it would bring only death and destruction if she remained. She ignored them every single time. They had been responsible for her being expelled from her home, _her family_, so why should she listen to them now? They were pathetically feeble, and she would not listen to such blasphemy coming from those who had, in a sense, ruined her life.

Using her fire-starter, Nya sat down cross-legged on the hot linen that lined the floor of her home. She had made a small pit with a barrier that would stop the fire from spitting out and torching her home, a small pot hanging over the fire. Yesterdays supper was still there, half of it anyways, and it would be good for another night. The benign smell soon began to fill the room as she pulled off her satchel, having collected some of the rare growing plant life from the forest half a days ride away, a rare find in such a place like Mossak. Once an established trading planet, now a mere ruin, a hot barren desert wasteland where there had once been forests for miles, streams filled with life and fauna. It was a sad consequence of the war, but it served her purpose, _a home away from home_, she mused thoughtfully with a tender, forlorn smile. _Like Jakku_.

Her supper was soon done, the bearable tasting mixture having just needed to warm through. Kicking sand onto the flames, extinguishing the dancing flickers of orange. Climbing out through a small hole in the side of her tent that often served as another door, she took her supper and sat on the hot sand, trying not to cringe from the heat as she did so. It would be dark soon, she mused, staring up at the darkening hues of pink and red as the sub began to set over the sand dunes.

Sleep would not come easy tonight; she could sense it, like a lingering feeling of dread in the hot, acrid air. She gave a soft sigh, spooning another mouthful of the mixture into her mouth. She swallowed with a grimace, not knowing how much more she could eat. If it wasn't for the fact that if she didn't she would starve, she wouldn't eat the strange tasting mixture she had concocted the previous night. It was a bearable taste, but not very pleasant.

A soft sigh left her lips a few minutes later when she finished the bowl, her stomach still hurting with hunger. It was a familiar pain, not limited to her time in exhile. It had been a common feeling at home too, her parents often trying their best for food, but with other half a dozen mouths to feed, times had been rough.

Something was going to happen; it was an unnerving feeling, the sense of approaching dread and carnage. She squeezed her eyes shut, saying a silent prayer in which she hoped such turmoil wouldn't come from her again. She swallowed the rising lump, _I don't know if I have it in me again to be cast out_, her broken heart whispered softly to her mind.

Nya remained outside for a while longer, watching the golden orb of orange and red descend down behind the sand dunes, as if playing a game of hide and seek, daring her to come and find it before it vanished from view. A wistful smile danced across her lips before she gathered herself up, her small wooden bowl clutched in her skin cracked and sun weathered hands, her leather barely covered feet chaffing against the hot sand as she staggered back into her home, leaving the setting sun and its dimming rays behind her.

* * *

The dream descended upon her like nothing it had before. It came sweeping in like a sandstorm, blanketing over everything. It showed horrific destruction, stormtroopers descending upon the planet from their transport shuttles, firing in return for the villagers that sent weapon fire their way in an instance, knocking some of the soldiers down before they even stepped foot off the craft.

It didn't take long for _him_ to appear either. He moved around her, his dark robes even more tattered, singed, than when she had first had him appear in her dreams. He looked at her face, registering the horror, and then back to her. "_What do you see_?" The altered voice demanded to know and she fumbled for words. "I see the destruction of my home," she whispered, feeling bile rise up before she angrily pushed it back down, taking a step forward, walking around him towards the carnage. "I see my friends, the villagers dying, invaders dying," a shuddering breath ripped from her lips, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm going to die," she gasped out, shaking with fright.

The voice, strange and alien sounding, echoed behind her. "Tell me where you are and I'll come for you," he demanded and she whirled around. "No!" She exclaimed frightfully. "I've seen you do unspeakable things, I've seen you almost kill me. No, I don't want you finding where I am, I don't want to die."

His body went ridged, and a flash of red hot amber awoke her in an instant, screams rousing her from her sleep. The being had gone, and now the screams of her falling kin wrecked havoc on her senses. Nya sprang from her bed, grabbing up her satchel and stuffing everything she could possibly fit into it. Her journals, her findings amongst some ruins she had found in the sparse forest. Her ship wasn't far, a couple of minutes run on the outskirts of the camp. Tears stung her eyes as she heard more people cry out and scream, those sounds the last they would ever make.

She flew from the tent, going around the back, the way the fires and the white soldiers who brought them, hadn't reached yet. Her feet flew against the now cool sand, her ship in sight, a speck in the distance. Nya willed herself not to look back, to flee for her life. A rocky region was to her left, somewhere she knew the others would flee to, the endless caves and caverns a friend when not wanting to be found. She had used them many a time, one such place being where the elder of the village had found her, welcomed her, told her she didn't need to hide in such a harsh place when she was welcome in their warmth, _their family_, another family she had no doubt probably brought death to.

* * *

_That feeling_, he mused as he looked over Mossak from the bridge of the _Finalizer_. It was a familiar feeling, something that he knew from his dreams with the girl who continued to elude him, apparently from fear he would _slaughter _her. His lips, hidden by his mask, lifted in a sarcastic, amused half smile. As if that was going to happen; _she was going to rule beside him_, quite the opposite to being slaughtered by him.

His eyes swept over the planet, once the end of the old Perlemian Trade Route, now just another abandoned planet located in the Outer Rim. He frowned as that feeling nagged at the back of his mind. It was like another sense, as if alerting him to her presence close by. Hux's and Phasma's troops were currently ransacking Mossak, looking for supplies they needed; he didn't care. Personally, he wanted to resume his hunt for the girl, _for Nya_. His frustration at not being able to find her, regardless of how many spies they had across the different systems, had grown tenfold since he began his search after Jakku. It was almost as if she were being _shielded _from him, the dead and irritatingly intrusive Jedi Masters of the past weaving their unwanted intrusion through the Force, keeping her hidden from him.

It mattered not; it was only a matter of time before he found her.

"Sir," came the altered voice of a trooper behind him. "Our scanners are picking up numerous ships attempting to leave the planet." He stated and Kylo turned slightly. "Send another division down; no one leaves Mossak. We came here for parts, that includes those found in spacecraft. Every one that escapes is a part lost; see to it they do not."

The trooper nodded once before leaving to fulfill his orders; Kylo turned back to the sight before him. He frowned, the feeling going stronger. He closed his eyes, pushing for it, giving a soft exhale when their minds connected once more, he could see her, her frightened features illuminated by what he supposed was fire, her face stained with god knows what, streaks of smoke evident on her tanned skin. Beforehand she hadn't had the golden hue, meaning she was on a hot planet, that narrowing it down some.

He was silent in his approach to her, his hand grasping her shoulder; he could feel her emotions through the touch, even with his thick leather gloves on. Angst, pain, horror as she watched something unspeakable happen. Nya whirled around in his grasp, her dark eyes wide with fright as she saw him standing behind her. "_How is this possible_?" She whispered in his mind and he gave a slight sound of amusement through the mask, his eyes narrowing when the feeling grew a hundred fold, and he gave a soft exhale, breaking the connection, looking at the planet one final time from the bridge of the _Finalizer_. He strode down the hallways with a new purpose. _So that's where you're hiding_, he mused, his two personal stormtroopers that always came on his personal transport craft guarding it. He motioned them on board, firing up the engines and pushing for the planet immediately, not about to let her get away again.

It didn't take long to arrive at the scene of fire and corpses strewn about the sandy ground. The remaining villagers had been rounded up while the division's of troopers sought out the supplies they came for, a few keeping the natives in a tight group, making sure they didn't become a bother. He located Phasma immediately, her surprise evident, even through the mask. "Sir, I wasn't expecting you to come down for this raid," she stated simply and he gave a sharp nod. "The girl we've been seeking is here, pull out all females between the ages of seventeen to twenty from the crowd." He ordered.

She did so immediately, his jaw clenching in frustration. _None of them were her, _he scowled inwardly. He shook his head at the silver armoured trooper, his senses still telling him she was on the planet, _close_. The force within him burned, guiding him to the right, towards the mountainous region that seemed so oddly placed in a desert wasteland.

A roaring sound echoed through the night sky immediately, his head snapping as an old, barely together, ship began to rocket towards the night sky. His hand reached out immediately, the attention of the silver trooper turning to him and the craft immediately. The ship creaked and groaned, spluttering against his force.

_It was her_, he could feel her, sense her. She was his now. Outstretching his hand more, the ship back to be pulled back by the will of his force, and his will was _strong_; she would not be escaping him again, ever. He brought it down after less than a minute, the ship crashing into some rocks at the beginning of the mountainous region. Fire spewed from it instantly and he began to make his advance towards it, waving off the troopers that made a start to follow him. _No, _this was his, she was his, and no one was going to allow an error that would result in her escape again.

* * *

Pain shot up her body as she managed to pull herself from the ship, now a tattered ruin of metal and fire. Blood dripped from her abdomen where a shard of metal had ripped through the skin there, dripping crimson through her cream and black tunic, dirtied with the dust from the sand and acrid black smoke from the village. Her leg was broken, or fractured, that much she was sure of. The worst pain imaginable shot up the limb as she staggered to her feet. Blood spewed from her torn skin, but she knew she had to get away. No doubt the invaders had spotted her crash, whatever had caused it, and would be on their way soon enough to investigate it.

Nya staggered upright, looking towards the village, her dark brown eyes becoming round as she saw a familiar figure none too far from her. It was the masked being, the man behind the mask, who stood a hundred feet from her. She turned around, staggering at an agonisingly slow pace towards the rocky caverns she knew she could hide in. He had came to kill her; she had seen the red weapon in his hand, one she recognised from her dreams.

She could sense him coming behind her as she staggered to small ledge, staggering up the small steps that had been formed out of a series of rocky ledges. The pain was unbearable, like a red hot knife cutting through her flesh and bones, an agonised cry screaming from her lips as she fell onto her crippled leg, blood squelching between her bruised fingers as she clenched her abdomen, knowing the blood flow was starting to border on dangerous.

It hadn't even been a second before the man followed her up onto the ledge, his heavy footfall making her hands clench as she readied herself for the blow that would end her life, a whimper leaving her lips as the pain rose to a sharpness like never before. "Leave me be!" She screamed, the mountains around her shaking with her anguish, her pain tinging her words and she squeezed her eyes shut, readying herself for that all too ironic, fatal blow that would end her suffering.

But no blow came. Nya opened her tear stained eyes, gazing up at the person before her. The red blade crackled, its energy unstable, but the noise disappeared as he sheathed the weapon. He advanced until he was but a mere foot from her, then crouched down, simply staring at her. Her breaths laboured, shuddering, as she met his gaze weakly, fearfully, terrified that a hand would reach out and grasp her throat, snuffing the life from her, or what remained of it at least.

There was a tense silence before he spoke, seemingly having surveyed her enough before making a decision of sorts. "So this is the girl I've heard so much about," he mused, his voice just like she remembered it through the mask. She shuddered, her eyes closing briefly, a tear or two leaking down her stained cheeks. He glanced over her once more. "Smaller than I thought," he mused, "and _weaker_ for someone who's managed to evade me _twice_ now."

Nya swallowed thickly, tears now trickling down her cheeks. "If you're going to kill me, _do it_," she whimpered, not meeting his gaze, even through the mask she could feel it piercing her soul. Salty droplets dripped to the rocky floor off her chin. "Everyone thinks I'm a monster, so do me a favour and spare me the mercy of continuing in this cruel world," she wept.

He was silent before he stood, staring behind her at the legion of invaders that no doubt belonged to him. Then he looked down at her. "Months ago, I offered you my hand, a way to be something, _somebody_, to have a purpose beyond the exiled daughter of filthy traders." She inhaled sharply at his words, wounding her deep to her already broken heart. "You're a nobody, _Nya, you're nothing_," he stated coolly, her tears flowing freely now. "But you aren't to me. You have no idea how long I've been searching for you, to bring you to my side, to show you the full potential of the force within you." His words were strange through the modulator; she could barely keep her eyes open, her blood loss now seeping dangerously. Even if he didn't kill her, she would soon sure enough die.

A gloved hand, blurred through her tears and near unconscious state, appeared in front of her eyes. She weakly lifted them to meet his gaze, then looked back at his hand. "Join me," he demanded, giving his hand a shake when she looked back up at him. "_Join me_," he repeated, and Nya gave a shuddering breath, pain spiking through her before, much to his vindication and delight -she could sense both, almost of though he was smug he had succeeded in bringing her to his side- she raised her blood stained, pale fingers, shaking as they moved towards his hand, almost as if she still expected him to strike her down.

Her fingers clasped his limply, not having the strength in them to hold on tight enough. He gave an exhale -she heard it through the mask- before pulling her gently upwards, somewhat aware of her injured state. She hadn't been standing a second before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed, his hands catching her just before she fell to the ground.

* * *

He couldn't believe it. _He'd found her, he _had _her_. She was heavily injured, bringing down her ship had caused some almost certainly fatal injuries had she managed to get away. His approach back to his own transport was swift. Phasma approached him as he came close. "Sir, the villagers?" She asked, her helmet dropping slightly as she looked to the close to death girl in his arms before back to him.

Dark eyes swept over the damage to the two divisions that had been sent down to the settlement. Over half were dead, indicating the villagers had spared nothing in order to defend themelves and the encampment. "Take the supplies; kill them all." He ordered before swinging back towards his transport, the girl whom he'd so desperately sought out hanging in his arms limply.

He placed her on the floor, ordering his two personal troopers to pilot the craft back to the _Finalizer_, and to radio ahead for an immediate transport to the medical bay that was in the higher levels of the ship, the one where the more serious of the injuries went, the prioritised ones. Her tanned skin was now dealthy pale, smeared with grime and goodness knows what. He settled himself back against the seat as he stared down at her unmoving form. _She won't be escaping again_, he mused. _And if she does, I'll tear apart the systems looking for her, and I'll never stop until I find her again._


	7. Chapter 7

**The Finalizer, 08/29ABY**

He watched her through the glass observation windows of the medical bay, his dark eyes sweeping over the numerous tubes that fed into her already too slim body. She was obviously malnourished, ever so slightly, something she'd probably been since birth. He remembered the small, barely out of infancy, dark haired girl with the equally wide, dark eyes that seemed to have no depth to them. She had been thin then, different to the other girls at the temple, but the rage he had felt at her being taken back then was quelled. He had her, and she was never going to leave again.

One of the droids moved up to him, its wheel giving a whirring noise as it came to a stop beside him. He didn't move his eyes from Nya, his expression hidden through his mask. "Report," he demanded and the droid began immediately, as it's programming had dictated. "She is recovering, stable.." Its electronic, monotone voice stated. "The wounds have been disinfected, stitched, and are beginning to heal, although, she does not show signs of regaining consciousness."

Kylo looked at the droid then. "Anything else?" He inquired, less than pleased that she was still unconscious. The droid bobbed its head once. "Her leg was fractured, but she seemed to be healing it on her own. It heals more as each second passes by."

He frowned at that. _It was rare, but somewhat possible_, he mused inwardly before turning back to the droid. "Keep me apprised of her development and make me aware as soon as she shows signs of awakening." He ordered, the droid screeching away as soon as he turned away from it. He turned his gaze back to the woman, the majority of her hidden from his gaze by tubes and wires. Soon she wouldn't, soon she would stand by his side, and they would _rule_ together.

* * *

Pain. That was all she could feel. It pulled at her insides, her very soul. The whispers were there, murmuring she was in danger, that the dark side would bring only death to her path. However, there were new whispers now. It covered the whispers that warned her of danger, they in return whispering that she was on a path to greatness, a path to discovering who she was, why everyone feared her. It whispered that she was powerful, strong, not weak like the old whispers wanted her to be. It was a hotness, a alluring warmth to her cold, aching being, to her shattered soul.

_The man_, her mind whispered to her. She thought back to his words._ Smaller than I thought, and weaker, for someone who's managed to evade me twice_. Twice, he had said. She accepted the once; he had more than likely found her or something on Jakku and then when she escaped using a neighbouring clan of traders ship, he must have been unable to find her. _But twice_? What was the other time? Maybe he meant the time she had almost taken his hand and then a noise had roused her from her dream, stealing that opportunity from him. It bemused her. He had only been appearing in her dreams as recently as last year, the whispers being all that she had heard beforehand in them.

Many more of his words frightened her, but before she could dwell on them, noises began to sleep through the darkness around her.  
Whirring noises echoed around her as she scrunched her nose, feeling something hard under it, a stickiness making a sharp sting travel across her face. The whirring noises stopped, then a single one amongst the chaos of them came closer to her, louder as the gap between them closed. There was a clicking and she scrunched her nose up again, trying to move her fingers, finding the heaviness in her veins making it impossible to more all but two out of the ten digits she had.

Heaviness filled her veins even more, and it dragged her down to the darkness, a place she wanted to be free of, but her body had other plans, and she fell into a heavy, uneasy slumber.

* * *

As promised, or rather ordered, he was apprised of her slow attempt to regain consciousness immediately. _Perfect_. It had been four days, a long time for someone with her injuries to have been out, although, she had been a whisper away from death when he brought her back to the ship.

Heavy boots thudded against the floor as he made his way to Interrogation Four, where he had ordered she be moved to once he was told she was coming around. He would pry her mind, as Leader Snoke had ordered, see if she was worth the effort in the Supreme Leaders eyes, the humanoid skeptical of how such power could be contained in someone who had no connected to anyone else with abilities. The droids and rare few actual doctors in the medical bay had drawn a sample of her blood for a midichlorian analysis, the results still being ran. A high count would see the Supreme Leader questioning his own skepticism at Nya's worth; he already knew she was powerful, had done since they were mere children, and it had increased tenfold since then. He could feel it, reaching to his, the two of them already fated.

As ordered, she was in the metal chair when he rounded the corner and went into the room, the door hissing shut behind him. Hux had been enquiring about when he would interrogate her; it would never happen. He knew the general was prone to snooping about. The closed door would only emphasise the point that the red haired man would never question Nya.

He leant against the wall, now able to properly look at her without all the tubes and filth covering her skin. Small, thin white scars marred her arms, evident of how old they were, her face flawless. Long, thick brown hair, now clean from blood and months of grime from living in exile, curled around her waist. It would be cut to a more acceptable length than the one it currently was -he would imagine it reached below her waist by a considerable amount, for she had it worn upwards in a braid every time the force had connected them together in the past, hiding its true length from him.

Thick lashes framed her eyes, eyes which he knew to be a molten, dark brown, seemingly able to pierce your soul,_ if you had one at all_, he mused with an amused tilt of his lips as he continued taking in her aged appearance. She had grown in height, obviously, but she hadn't grown into her figure, lack of nourishment had to be blamed for that, but it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. She would soon grow into what she was destined to become.

A clanging noise echoed around the room as she jerked in the restraints, eyes flying open as she startled herself awake. He watched as those dark brown eyes darted around before they landed on him, widening as she noticed him standing against the wall. "Where am I?" She whispered, her voice hoarse from an obvious lack of usage from the last few days. She cleared her throat. "Who are you?"

It was almost amusing that someone who could be so powerful, have such potential, was literally _quaking_ in the chair across from him. Her entire body quivered and he made an amused sound. "You're scared of me," he mused and her eyes locked onto him. "Of course I am," she whispered. "I've seen you do horrible things and you've been hunting me. If you're going to kill me, please just get it over with instead of this psychological mind torture or whatever game you're playing."

It was then he moved towards her, her body going rigid in the metal chair. "Explain something to me, Nya," he circled around her before coming to her left side. Her dark eyes hesitantly rose to look at him. "How can someone, who comes from absolutely nowhere, be strong with the force? You have no ties to anyone with the force, and you literally are nothing, you're no-one."

His harsh words seemed to provoke a response from her as she sat up, pulling at her restraints. "I am not nothing!" She hissed and he gave a smirk beneath the mask, knowing she couldn't see it. "Yes you are," he stated simply, already feeling the anger rising up within her. _Good_. "If you don't tell me, I'll simply look for myself." He leant in closer, her dark eyes burning hotly into his through the mask. "_You know I can take whatever I want_." He murmured close to her ear.

Her eyes widened as he stretched his hand out, using the force to pry her mind. Sounds of strain slipped past her lips, her eyes screwing up every few seconds as hot pain sliced through her head at his efforts. Memories bombarded him; a happy childhood, filled with laughter and delight. That was until she had came to the temple and Skywalker had ruined that for her. Instantly the mood changed. No longer came childlike laughter and enthusiasm, but rather heartbreak, persecution because of what Skywalker had said about her, rejection from her own family. It was a festering pool of self-hate, anger, devastation.

He had never felt such hate before, not even when Skywalker betrayed him, tried to murder him. His eyes widened a little, watching as tears leaked down her cheeks as she too relived what he was seeing, her rage simmering to a boiling point.

And it exploded.

Sparks flew from everywhere as she screamed, sounding like a wounded, feral animal. Everything around him exploded, the lights dimming as they switched to their backup generators as she started sobbing in the chair. "Get out of my head!" She screamed, her eyes dark and wild as they gleamed at him, tears flowing from her eyes. "You don't know anything!" She pulled at the chair angrily, her sobs sounding desperate and frantic. "Let me out of here! _Let me out of this thing_!"

He took a step back, watching as she retched, upset to the point of vomiting. _The raw power_, it was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Just being in her presence made him feel more powerful, he could feel more _raw energy _flowing through his limbs. He felt like he could conquer the universe, like his grandfather, but he would succeed unlike Vader.

Her struggling stopped, her body still recovering from her injuries. Her eyes fluttered slightly before she fell limply back into the chair, her tears still trickling down her cheeks. A smug smile appeared across his lips; she was ready to take to Snoke, and at last, the Supreme Leader would be proud of something _he'd done_, not_ Hux_, something the general couldn't lay claim to at last.

Kylo moved over to Nya as she sat unconscious in the chair, staring at her. She was so different to the small girl from the temple, more wild, unsure of her path into the force. He would show her, guide her to the right side, _the dark side_, and she would be his. His lips curved up in a tight smirk. _He had found her, _eventually, _and she was all his._


End file.
